HARRY POTTER AND THE TERRIBLE WIZARD WORLD
by Dingus McPingus
Summary: The adults in Harry Potter are kind of assholes.
1. First Year

One day in the Harry Potter world, Harry Potter decided that today was a pretty shit day. He had gotten detentions in every single class for not paying attention and talking with his friends about some wizard terrorist. Harry collapsed onto his seat. The class was Potions and they were making hydrochloric acid. Don't ask me why, ask J.K Rowling why people are teaching 11 year old children about herbs in a room infested with plants that strangle people harder than Darth Vader's Force Choke.

Snape went into another one of his boring drones about ingredients that have apparently never been found in any part of the world by several of the world's best explorers because they didn't practice witchcraft. The day started off well when Neville Longbottom mixed 10 kilograms of cesium and 10 liters of water together, causing an explosion that definitely didn't create concentrated dark matter. "ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND POINTS FROM GRYFFINDOR!" shouted Snape gleefully. "Neville!" scolded Hermione, "Stop taking Rick and Morty so seriously!" Neville did not reply, since his head had been blown off when his cauldron exploded.

Harry groaned and put his head into his hands. This day couldn't get any more boring. Snape used a butterfly knife to swiftly impale Harry's hand. "NO GROANING AT SCHOOL!" he screamed, before throwing it at Ron Weasley, who had been minding his own business but was watching '10 hours of dank memes – MLG Air horn edition ' in his erm… wizard… phone…? I honestly can't believe that this community of magical people around the world don't send text messages or emails or some kind of instant communication service. How the hell do they keep order when they just use easily intercept-able, easily tired and very slow owls to send mail?! How do the owls even know where to go if you just buy one at a store and it's never seen Africa in its entire life?

Anyway, Snape's custom made 8 inch butterfly knife cut through the air and Ron was just barely able to deflect it with his wand. The knife cut through the wood easily, causing it to break in half and cause a family of slugs to explode out of the center. "NO ILLEGALLY BREEDING SLUGS!" shrieked Snape, as the butterfly knife flew around like a boomerang and somehow made its way to his hand, flipping back into its closed position with a spectacular folding movement. "What the shit!?" Ron cried, before Harry's tired brain was able to register pain and cause him to cry out at the stab wound in his hand impaled into him roughly 40 seconds ago.

"Snape why are you doing this?" Harry shouted. "BECAUSE YOUR FATHER WAS AN ASSHOLE TO ME IN SCHOOL!" screamed Snape, waving his hands around like a demented chicken. "So you've been abusing a child with a traumatic childhood who has suffered attempted murder, the murder of his parents and verbal and physical abuse from his own Aunt and Uncle for the whole year just because his father was mean to you in school, where he was young and probably didn't understand that his bullying hurt you?" asked Hermione. Snape calmed down. He hadn't thought about that.

Just before he began to think rationally, Voldemort smashed himself through the solid brick foundation walls, attached to Professor Quirrel's head in a rather undignified way. "I'M BACK CRAPHOLES!" Voldemort shrieked, waving Professor Quirrel's wand around, "AND I'M GONNA KILL HARRY POTTER IN A REALLY UNNECESSARILY COMPLICATED PLOT THAT HAS A HIGH CHANCE OF FAILURE!" Snape threw his butterfly knife at Voldemort, severing his face from the back of Professor Quirrel's head. "SHIT!" screamed Voldemort's dismembered face.

"And now that that minor interruption has finished," droned Snape, "I want to see how your hydrochloric acid has been coming along." After he had inspected everyone's cauldron, he put them all into several flasks for safekeeping. The bell rang, and all the students ran off, in various states of shock because of what had just happened. Snape looked around, before scooping Voldemort's dismembered face and plopping it in some pickle juice for his lunch tomorrow. "Just another regular day," murmured Snape, drinking what he thought was wine from his flask. He spat it all out with a splutter when he realized it was one of the flasks of undiluted hydrochloric acid.

END!


	2. First Year: Deleted scene

(This is a deleted scene for the first chapter set at the very beginning, where Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall are waiting at the Dursley's)

"Hagrid's late" Dumbledore murmured drily.  
"Of course he's late!" snapped Professor McGonagall. "He turned up to work at 12:35am last Monday when you asked him to mow the lawn the Saturday before that!"  
"Well to be fair, his house _is_ pretty far from my office," Dumbledore mumbled, his voice obscured by the huge frothing blob of sherbet lemons he was eating. McGonagall's protest was drowned out by a huge roar. "Did he bring that three-headed dog of his again?" she sighed. Dumbledore shook his head. "Look!"

The motorcycle flew past their heads… and crashed into a nearby car. The car was completely demolished, but thankfully Dumbledore did some magical crap to make sure nobody heard. "All right Hagrid?" he called. Hagrid put the thumbs up and stepped unsteadily onto the road. He trudged over to where Dumbledore and McGonagall were standing. "Is the baby alright?" Dumbledore queried. "Yep!" Hagrid smiled. "T'was a safe journey! He was fallin' asleep when we were flying over New York!" (That's an example of how crappy I am at writing in Hagrid's speaking patterns.)

"Wait… New York?" McGonagall asked. "Yeh." Hagrid said, still beaming goofily. "T'was a massive fire goin' on there so I decided to go n' look! 'Hen there was this _gian'_ tornado when we crossed over Japan!"  
"And you'd call that a safe journey?" McGonagall replied drily. "You do know the Potters' house was in the same country as where we said we'd meet?"  
"Well, it's the thought 'hat counts" Hagrid said. Dumbledore looked into the bag to feast his eyes on the Boy who lived…

…and ended up feasting his eyes on a charred human corpse. "WHAT THE HELL HAGRID!?" Dumbledore screamed. "Looks like his 'Michael Gambon' personality is surfacing again," muttered Professor McGonagall. "YOU SAID YOU HAD A SAFE JOURNEY!" Dumbledore screeched at Hagrid like an eagle getting strangled. Hagrid was a little taken aback. "Well… eh… We may 'ave had too much of a close look of 'hat fire…" (God I am terrible at writing Hagrid's speaking patterns…)

Dumbledore decided to use his magic to erm… anti-kill the child? Unfortunately, since it was extremely late at night and he was tired to the bones, he ended up just saying " _Anti-abra kebabra!"_ which turned the barely alive Harry Potter into a large roasted chicken kebab. "Whoops!" Dumbledore mumbled, unable to keep his eyes open. "Now look what you've done!" snapped Professor McGonagall. "Screw it, I can't be bothered doing this anymore…" Dumbledore groaned. "I need a drink…"

Dumbledore settled with giving the Kebab that had once been Harry Potter to Hagrid to eat. He then transferred Harry's consciousness into a clone. Because magic. "Now what should we do with him?" asked Dumbledore. "Let's 'ave a drink first" Hagrid said.  
Half an hour later, Professor McGonagall, Dumbledore and Hagrid were flat out drunk in the Leaky Cauldron. "MORE BEER!" Hagrid roared, gulping down his drink, mug and all. "Now really… *hic* Hagrid…" Dumbledore gurgled, drinking his 32nd mug of alcohol that night. "What should we do to the child…" he gestured to the clone of Harry, which was somehow sleeping through the din.

Hagrid thought a minute before settling on putting a ring with a lightning bolt insignia on, slamming his fist into the baby Harry Potter's forehead, and chugging down another giant mug of foaming beer. "What wash that for?" Professor McGonagall asked, her words slurring because of how drunk she was. "Tis to make 'im feel shpechial…" Hagrid grunted. "Shcars *hic* alwaysh make ya feel shpechial…" Dumbledore agreed, pointing to his own scar which conveniently had an entire map of the London Underground on it. "But what should we do with the schild?" McGonagall asked. "He's the mosht important person in the *hic* wizard world…" Dumbledore grunted. "Eh… Let'sh jusht leave 'im at 'is abushive uncle and aunt…" Hagrid beamed. "What a great idea!" McGonagall agreed.

And so they did.

END!


	3. Second Year

Another day in the Harry Potter world, Harry Potter decided that this was the shittiest day he had ever gotten for the whole year. And it was only the first day. He had just crashed headfirst into the solid marble – well I don't know exactly what it's made of but it looks kind of marble-y – barrier that was in place between platforms 9 and 10 at King's Cross Station at a high speed. His pet owl, Hedwig, was glaring at him with a rather disturbing look on her face, with one of her eyes somehow bulging out and looking bigger than the other. Harry looked away from his silently glaring owl to his friend, Ron Weasley.

"What the?" Ron asked, looking utterly bewildered as usual. "Why the hell has happened to the barrier?" A dozen or so people were staring at these two kids, who from their point of view had been pushing their trollies calmly around the station before suddenly sprinting at the barrier with a strange look in their eyes – a cross between a constipated grimace and Donald Trump's 'Fake news!' face. Harry realized that these people were going to ask them awkward questions, so he thought fast. Or as fast as his sluggishly dazed brain would allow. "Erm… Sorry…" he said with what he thought was a winning smile but was actually an unsettling baring of his teeth. "Lost control of the cart…"

The observers looked at each other before stepping away slowly and going on with their business. Harry and Ron stood around the barrier like idiots, watching the clock turn. "We missed the train!" groaned Ron. "No shit Captain Obvious!" Harry retorted. Ron thought for a moment. "The car!" he cried.  
"What?"  
"We can take the car to Hog-"  
But then Harry decided that was a terrible idea, and that they should use one of the many other ways to get to Hogwarts, like Floo powder, the magical dust that allowed you to teleport literally anywhere as long as it had a fireplace.

And so Harry and Ron teleported into a random fire place in Hogwarts, so didn't get in trouble after they explained themselves. They didn't bust up Mr. Weasley's car, and he didn't almost lose his job. And Dumbledore realized that people didn't have to take the train. They could just floo powder themselves in any time they liked. So then he sacked that one lady who walks up and down the train giving out cakes. She became a hobo. And Dumbledore also realized that having a tree that punches harder than Mike Tyson that is strong enough to break through solid steel could be dangerous to the students, so he got rid of it. And Dobby got super triggered since his plan to stop Harry from going to school failed.

Many months later, when the Chamber of Secrets got opened and multiple people got petrified by a monster, Harry realized that the monster was a Basilisk (a big ass snake) through a crumpled up note in Hermione Granger's petrified hands. "How has a giant snake been travelling around the school?" asked Ron, wearing his familiar bewildered expression. Harry looked at the note and saw Hermione's handwriting. _Pipes._ "Ron… It's been using the plumbing! That's why I've been hearing this spooky-ass voice all over the school! It's been moving through the pipes!"

"But… how does it get out of pipes? It's not like we have any Basilisk-sized holes all over the school!" Ron replied. Harry paused. "Goddamn it Hermione!" he shouted to Hermione's petrified corpse. Well not corpse since technically she was still alive. "You're supposed to be smart!" Ron shouted, flipping the bird at her frozen body.

Hermione got so pissed that she jumped up and began punching him in the face, tearing at his hair and stabbing at his skin with her disturbingly long fingernails, all the while screaming at the top of her lungs. "SHITSHITCRAPCRAPHARRYGETHEROFFMEHELPME" Ron gabbled. Harry could do nothing but stand there as Hermione punched Ron again and again. Finally after about 15 minutes, he found his voice. "Uh Hermione…?" his voice barely squeaked over the din.

Hermione stopped beating the crap out of Ron for a bit. "Yes Harry?" she asked sweetly.  
"You're supposed to be petrified."  
"Oh. Yeah." Hermione jumped back into her bed and within a few seconds was a frozen statue, like the other petrified victims. Harry snapped his fingers at Hermione's face a few times to make sure she was really petrified before asking Ron if he was alright. Ron responded by making a sound resembling a secondhand trumpet caught in Hagrid's ass.

Harry and Ron ran out of the hospital wing and saw Ginny Weasley, under the influence of Tom Riddle, tearing the side of a wall out with pickaxe. She laughed and waited for the Basilisk to come out, but the only thing that came out of the massive hole was Severus Snape, licking his fingers with a huge bucket of Kentucky Fried Basilisk in his hand. "SHIT!" Ginny screamed, before fainting. Tom Riddle came out of the book she was holding and started screaming at the top of his lungs. Snape cut off his face and stuck it in a jar of stomach acids. "That's two in my collection of Voldemort faces," he deadpanned before walking in the direction of his office.

"What the shit just happened?" Ron asked Harry. Harry looked at him blankly before ripping his own face open to reveal Gilderoy Lockhart. "SURPRISE BISH!" he screamed, before Professor McGonagall appeared out of nowhere to turn him into a can of Mountain Dew. Ron looked utterly bewildered, before deciding to study for his next class.  
2 hours later, while walking by Ron spotted the real Harry Potter trapped in Gilderoy Lockhart's office, dangling from the wall by his ankle with a dozen other students who Lockhart had given detentions. A can of Mountain Dew was reading them Lockhart's latest book about famous toenail clippings he met and they were all screaming their lungs out at him to stop and set them free.

END!


	4. Third Year

One day in the Harry Potter world, Harry Potter realized that he was not having a shitty day… he was actually having a rather excellent one. He was able to enter the Hogsmeade village not through an illegal secret passage through a shady map that two of his _very_ shady friends who really loved practical jokes involving injury had given him, but because Albus Dumbledore realized that kids shouldn't need a permission slip to enter a village that was literally 5 meters away from Hogwarts. I mean, why should it be such a big deal anyway? Harry was able to buy sweets like all the other kids and was feeling like this was the best day he had had in a while…

…Until he woke up in his bed to Ron screaming. "BLACK! SIRIUS BLACK!" he shrieked. "That's racist Ron!" Harry mumbled, trying to get back to sleep and dream about going to the village without a permission slip again, but it was too late. Ron's high-pitched shrieking had made a dozen people come running. "God dammit!" Harry grunted. "HE SLASHED THE CURTAINS!" Ron screamed. "Well maybe he didn't like the little lace flowers you glued on them," muttered Harry, trying to shut out the sound of Ron's spaz attack by placing his pillow over his ears. Unfortunately a bunch of half-asleep pre-pubescent teenage wizards burst into the room and started shooting magical beams of light around the place, completely destroying the room and utterly incinerating the pretty lace flower curtains (where Ron's pet rat Scabbers happened to be taking refuge).

"Hey that's odd!" Fred Weasley said to his brother George. "That one kid Peter Pottin-goo or whatever his name was has disappeared from the Marauder's map!"

Meanwhile, at a late night executive teachers' meeting, Dumbledore was wondering what to do about the security problem. "How should we defend the entire population of Hogwarts from one guy with a stick?" Professor Snape opened his mouth. "No." Dumbledore interrupted. Professor Sprout opened her mouth. "No." Dumbledore shook his head. Professor McGonagall opened her mouth. "That's a great idea! Let's invite soul-sucking depression ghosts that are used to guard extremely evil criminals into the castle!" Professor McGonagall looked stunned. "That's not what I- "  
Dumbledore interrupted her. "That's a great idea! And you'll get all credit for it!"

2 weeks later 1000 Dementors took refuge in Hogwarts and everyone got depressed within the hour (except Snape, since he already had been keeping mind-crippling depression in check for over 12 years, so he was used to it and the Dementors didn't affect him at all).  
"Albus get up." Snape muttered, kicking Albus Dumbledore's leg contemptuously. "Noooooo" Dumbledore groaned, having not enough energy to even sit up. "I want to sleep… and a 90 minute cut of Avatar!" Snape facepalmed. " _Pffaoemzmciewp_ " he shouted, and all the Dementors were killed in an epic fashion which had the appearance of the experience of being in close-proximity to a nuclear explosion. Dumbledore perked up instantly. "Much better!"  
Snape walked out of Dumbledore's office, muttering something about incompetent Headmasters.

END!

 _*Post credit scene incoming*_  
Snape opened the door to exit his office to see Albus Dumbledore trooping around in a disgusting grey robe and pointed hat, hitting Draco Malfoy with a stick. Not a magical staff, just a large stick. The kind you'd find on a tree branch. "YOU SHALL NOT PASS!" he screeched over and over again. "Albus, did you go to Hagrid's hut and watch _The Fellowship of the Ring_ again?" Dumbledore stopped flogging Draco for a bit. "No." Dumbledore shook his head innocently. Snape sighed.  
"Albus?"  
"No!"  
"Albus!"  
"Maybe..."  
Snape paused. "Wanna come inside and watch _The Two Towers_ with me?"  
"YES!"

TRUE END!


	5. Fourth Year (THE FINALE BABY!)

_Author's note: I know I haven't been updating this story regularly, but as payment here's an extra-long chapter :)_

It was that sort of afternoon, you know the one. The kind that makes you want to just lie down and drink Fanta out of a camel's hump. Oh wait, wrong story. One day in the Harry Potter world, Harry Potter decided that out of all the shitty days he had experienced over the past 4 years, this was the shittiest. A paper with his name had just been released out of the magical Goblet of Fire, which meant that he was now enlisted in the highly dangerous Triwizard Cup. Harry wasn't supposed to go, since apparently, he's the most important 14 year old in history and was practically worshipped by everyone. What a lucky stiff. However, today he was not doing so lucky, as from the perspective of everyone else, he had just signed up for the competition, even though he hadn't even been a metre near the Goblet of Fire. _Oh well,_ Harry thought, cheering up a little. _At least Dumbledore will understand!_

Harry spun around to the sound of the doors of the room in which he was standing in creaking open. "Harry Pot- " Professor McGonagall began, before she was interrupted by Albus Dumbledore crashing through 2 metres of solid brick, frothing at the mouth.  
"HARRY!" he shrieked, throwing McGonagall aside (giving her a concussion) and running toward the wretched boy with an insane look in his eye. Dumbledore skimmed over the table, spilling a dozen ink bottles onto the floor (causing Argus Filch to sob into his hands as he had just mopped the floor that morning), before kicking a chair in his way to splinters and shoving Harry against the wall, shaking him back and forth violently. "DIDJA PUT YOUR NAME IN THE _**GOBLET OF FIRE!?**_ "

Harry couldn't really answer, since he was practically getting strangled by the old man, but still shook his head like a bobblehead. Dumbledore stopped shaking Harry and was immediately sunshine and rainbows. "Well, okay then!" he beamed, before calmly making his way out of the room.

A few months later, (or was it earlier? Haven't read the book in a while… whatever, let's say later) Professor Moody was teaching the class about the Unforgiveable Curses. "Yeah… this is the *burrrp* w-w-worst of 'em all…" Moody grunted, before proceeding to take a large swig from his flask (containing an unidentified and suspicious looking liquid).

"Is this guy drunk?" Harry asked Ron. Ron shrugged, as he hadn't been paying attention to the entire class. He had been gnawing at a leftover chicken bone for the past twenty minutes.

Moody droned on. "But this one needs real intent and uh… *cough* You could... *urrp* t-t-take out yer wands and b-b-bloody well shoot me with it right now and it won't do jack shit…" Professor Moody vomited the contents of his lunch onto the table. "So erm… since these curses and shit *burrp* can't be used on a human b-b-being, I've turned Draco Malfoy into a ferret for ya and *cough* you can practice on 'im. You can see that he *uurrrp* won't be harmed at all!"

The entire class looked, stunned as Moody produced a visibly-terrified looking ferret with a distinctive white coat. "Ow! Stupid bitch…" Moody muttered as the ferret bit him. "Uh… Professor Moody?" Hermione asked. "No." Moody snapped. Hermione shut up. Harry put his hand up. "Sir?" Moody nodded his head in the direction of him, before taking another swig of his flask. "Why are you teaching us how to use these illegal curses in a _Defence Against_ the Dark Arts class?"  
Moody stumbled over to Harry like a zombie on drugs, and grabbed his head, twisting it back and forth repeatedly. "Don't you worry your little pimple-covered Potter-y head, Potter!" Moody smiled, before collapsing onto his desk.

Suddenly, Professor McGonagall burst into the room. "PROFESSOR MOODY!" she shrieked. "WE DO NOT USE TRANSFIGURATION AS A PUNISHMENT METHOD!"  
Moody shifted his head from the pool of saliva that was forming. "Yeah, well… didn't you turn that o-o-other guy into a soft drink can a few *burrp* chapters ago?"  
Professor McGonagall, undeterred from the fact that Moody had broken the fourth wall, continued to snarl. "WE STILL DON'T USE IT AS PUNISHMENT! WE USE _DETENTIONS!"_  
Professor Moody looked up, and transformed McGonagall into a sea snail, and went back to sleep. "Class dismissed." he burped.

 _Author's note: Most of the story is boring shit until the second challenge. I'll just skip to that._

Harry had fallen asleep in the library when he heard something slap his face.  
"Harry Potter!"  
Harry yawned, and went back to sleep.  
"Harry Potter!"  
Harry cracked one of his eyes open a bit, and came face to face with the horrible face of Dobby the house elf. He shut his eyes again and fell back to sleep.  
"HARRY POTTER!" Dobby shrieked. "Screw off, Dobby." Harry grunted. "I can't be bothered dealing with your shit right now." Dobby scuttled off, but to Harry's chagrin returned with a 1942 M1 rocket launcher. "HARRY POTTER WAKE UP!" Dobby screamed, firing a rocket at a bookshelf and blowing it up. Burning books flew everywhere. "Quiet in the library!" whispered the librarian. Harry finally woke up. "What is it Dobby?" he groaned. "HARRY POTTER IS LATE FOR THE SECOND CHALLENGE!" Dobby cried. "Oh okay. Sorry, I thought it was something important." Harry yawned. Dobby looked confused. "Harry Potter must do the challenge!" he squeaked. "Nah, I'm not risking my life for some dumb competition I never even signed up for!" Harry retorted. "It's not like I _have_ to participate, right? I mean, it's not like they even want me to."

Suddenly, Harry found himself by the lake. Dobby had teleported him there. "EAT THIS!" Dobby screamed, shoving a ball of slimy herbs into his mouth. "WILL LET YOU BREATHE UNDERWATER!" Dobby babbled. "IT IS GILLYWEED!"  
Harry immediately grew gills and collapsed. He was dying of asphyxiation. Dobby had taken the Gillyweed from Snape's secret ingredients cupboard, and Snape had… uh… let's just say that he made the 'Weed' in the herb more prominent than the 'Gill' part.

Harry started writhing on the floor, suffocating AND hallucinating that 6 polka dotted elephants were doing a striptease on his head. Dobby kicked his squirming body into the water and gave Snape (who was in the crowd) a thumbs up.  
"That'll teach that idiot not to put his name in the Goblet of Fire. Stupid brat, always wanting attention." Snape muttered. He then turned to Albus, who (as always) was completely oblivious to everything.

Half an hour past. None of the champions had returned from the lake. Snape decided to have a word with Dumbledore. "Sir, may I have a word?" Snape asked. "How's it going my dull Snapey friend? Isn't this so exciting?" Albus grinned. "Well, no. That's what I'm asking you about. Are we just going to watch this empty lake for an hour?"  
Dumbledore smiled.  
"Yes."  
And so they did.

THE END

 _Author's note: Unfortunately, I ended up rushing this because as I read through an earlier draft I realized that I was trying way too hard with the 'lol random' humour. I've decided I'm going to write a new story and actually plan it out instead of writing whatever the hell comes into my head. Also, I can't be bothered doing Order of the Phoenix because I've forgotten most of what actually happened and I can't be bothered reading through almost 800 pages of Harry moaning about how misunderstood he is… Anyway, hopefully I'll start putting out funnier content… or y'know… just some random shit…_


End file.
